


Keep You Close (Keep Me Safe)

by bafflinghaze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caring Dom, Daddy Kink, Dom Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Gentle Dom, HP Daddy Fest, HP Daddy Fest 2020, Hand Jobs, Hint of Age Play, M/M, Mild Subspace & Domspace, Praise Kink, Slightly Dark Draco? (i.e.. he’ll take care of Harry no matter the law), Sub Harry Potter, mention of sounding (not between Harry or Draco)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bafflinghaze/pseuds/bafflinghaze
Summary: After a long day, Harry comes home knowing Draco will take care of him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 51
Kudos: 609
Collections: HP Daddy Fest 2020





	Keep You Close (Keep Me Safe)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’ed by [M0stlyVoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M0stlyVoid) ❤️
> 
> You cannot believe how many ideas I brainstormed up from the original prompt (I have a lot of feels about Harry being cared for). I hope you enjoy the following soft scene!

The tension in Harry's chest eased the moment he emerged from the Floo at Grimmauld Place. Draco was already there, as usual, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. He was casually reading a book, a really thick book, whilst wearing delicate silver framed reading glasses.

Harry’s heart sighed at the image. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe that Draco was _his_.

Draco glanced up. “Harry.” His voice was even, though there was a hint of amusement in his lips. “Welcome.”

Harry blinked back into action. “Hi,” he quickly said. “How was work?”

“Tolerable,” Draco drawled. “No slime or pus around the ward today.”

Harry pulled a face, just like Draco probably wanted him to. “I dunno, slime might be better than blood.”

“Will I be hearing of murder in the papers?”

“Don’t know, the victim hasn’t died yet.”

“ _Well_ , there was one patient who had stuck a pencil up his cock. He certainly went red when I informed him he could owl-order proper sounding rods.” A smirk hovered over the corner of Draco’s lips. “Made me think about you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not _that_ stupid.”

Draco’s smirk widened. “I should hope not, Mister Head Auror Potter.” He closed his book and stood up, strolling slowly towards Harry, his eyes darkening at each step. Voice deadly soft, he asked, “How was work, _really_?”

Harry gave a heavy sigh. “Bad. There are so many cases, but there are _some_ Aurors I would never assign to them because I know they’ll fuck it up. But Ron won’t let me back in the field, you know.” Harry let out his frustrations, his shoulders becoming lighter with each confession. Meanwhile, Draco was taking off Harry’s red robes—undoing the buttons, carefully tugging Harry’s arms out of the sleeves. At the end of it, Harry huffed. “I think I might need to get a secretary after all.”

Draco brushed back the curls on Harry’s forehead. “I heard you were injured.”

Harry winced. “Yeah, someone snuck in with the journalists during the press conference.”

“ _Who_ dared to hurt you? I will eliminate them.”

Harry gave Draco a stern look. “Draco. I’m the _Head Auror_. I can’t look the other way if you decide to hunt them down.”

Draco caressed Harry’s chin, and Harry couldn’t fight the tingle of feeling.

“You didn’t mind with the Dursleys. There’ll be no trace.”

“That—you didn’t _hurt_ them,” Harry protested weakly. “What they got was...fair, given that we would never be able to prosecute them under Muggle law.”

“Hmm.”

“ _Draco_. I won’t be able to relax if I’m worried you’ll go hunting.”

As Harry expected, Draco conceded, albeit with a grimace.

“Very well. But only because I love you.”

Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco’s chin. “I know.”

“You worked hard today, Harry.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, and then immediately relaxed. This was how one of their common scenes started. The first time, Draco had found Harry overworking himself, proposed the outline of a scene, and said, _You worked hard, Harry. You take care of the world. Let me take care of_ _ **you**_.

“Yeah.” And _that_ was Harry's consent.

Draco’s eyes lit with approval. His hand reached out and landed on Harry’s shoulder.

Under the firm pressure, Harry let himself be shifted back, taking a seat ungracefully on the sofa. Now he had to crane his neck to look up Draco, and the exaggerated height difference took Harry’s breath away, always. It made him feel younger. More vulnerable. It made Draco’s actions all the more meaningful, because now, over the months of their relationship, Harry _knew_ Draco would keep him safe.

“You need to rest and recover for the day tomorrow. We can’t have you working dead on your feet,” Draco said, voice brooking no argument.

Harry dropped his head down. Draco’s hand was warm, heavy, _large_ on his shoulder. It was hard to focus on anything else.

“You’re going to be a _good boy_ and listen to what I say, won’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. Harry’s eyes closed. Of _course_ he would listen. Draco knew that.

Draco’s other hand caressed Harry’s hair and lifted his chin up.

“Your words, Harry.”

Harry was compelled to reply. “Yes.”

“Yes, _what_?”

Harry opened his eyes wide, looking up to meet Draco. “Yes, Daddy.”

Satisfaction and triumph graced Draco’s liquid silver eyes, but a pleased smile graced his lips. “Good boy,” he said, low and deep and so, so terribly _indulgent_. He returned to running a hand through Harry’s hair, tugging at the curls, scritching his head.

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed again, a little sound escaping his mouth. It was tingly and good and if his Dom would just keep doing that forever and ever...

Harry wanted to please him and keep pleasing him. He couldn’t quite remember exactly how to please his Dom. But Harry didn’t have to worry. That was a job for his Daddy.

It wasn’t the exact same scene every time. The first few times _had_ been negotiated, after they had met at a Muggle munch in London. But these days, Harry let Draco manoeuvre it as he saw fit.

“Good boy,” Draco continued to murmur. “Let’s have dinner.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “I _do_ feel very hungry.”

Draco’s chuckle was low and warm. His hands trailing down Harry’s sides was the only warning he had before Draco lifted him entirely.

Harry’s stomach swooped, exhilarated at the easy way Draco held him. Harry quickly wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, placing his head under Draco’s chin.

“Hold on, that’s my good boy,” Draco said.

“Uh-huh,” Harry agreed, half-listening to Draco’s heartbeat. At the back of his mind, he knew Draco often took a temporary strength potion. But during the scenes itself, it made Harry feel so much more like Draco’s _boy_.

And he never remembered his own father carrying him like this.

In the dining room, Draco had already set out dinner—at one seat. The chair automatically pulled out, and Draco sat down, shifting Harry onto his lap, Harry’s back against Draco’s arm, legs dangling off the side.

“Now,” Draco murmured, voice against Harry’s ear, “What would you like to eat first?”

“...The vegetables?”

Draco’s pleased hum tugged a smile on Harry’s face.

“You’ve been learning very well, Harry.”

Draco fed him the stir-fried vegetables, savoury and with a hinting touch of nutty sesame. He moved onto the spiced pumpkin soup, and then the beef Wellington, and each “ _Good boy_ , _you’re eating so well_ ,” made Harry’s chest swell. _This_ was something Harry could do right, that he couldn’t mess up.

“Aren't you going to eat?” he asked, sometime during the dinner.

The corner of Draco’s lips curled up. “Is my baby boy going to feed _me_?” Draco drawled, low and indulgent.

“Oh, yeah!” Harry grinned, and did just that. His grin widened when Draco gave him a squeeze.

“Look at you, looking after me when I’m supposed to be looking after _you_. Very cheeky.”

“Nope,” Harry said easily. “I’m a good boy.”

Draco chuckled. “Yes. Yes, you are. And do you know what good boys get?”

Harry tilted his head. “No?”

Draco’s eyes flickered up, just as a plate floated into the room.

Harry straightened up. “Treacle tart!”

“I made it just for you.”

A thrill of pleasure went through Harry. “Thank you,” he said, ducking his head from Draco’s heavy look. _Made it_ _ **just**_ _for Harry_. Harry insisted on holding the fork himself so he could sneakily give Draco some bites, delighting in the way Draco’s gaze rested on him.

By the end of it, Harry was pleasantly full and pleasantly relaxed. Draco sent the dishes flying back to the kitchen. The first few times, Harry had insisted on washing up, but now, he curled up against his Daddy instead.

“Now,” Draco said. “Can my baby boy have a bath by himself, or does he need his Daddy’s help?”

“ _Well_ …” Harry demurred.

Draco rubbed Harry’s tummy and Harry giggled. He immediately wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and let him carry Harry to the main bathroom.

The water was already hot and waiting for him, as were the huge fluffy white towels and pyjamas just for Harry that Draco had bought a few weeks ago.

Harry chose his bath bomb for the night, and when he took off his own clothes and placed them in the hamper, Draco was there, telling him, “ _Good boy,_ ” and helping him into the silver-and-gold glittering water. His glasses were placed on the sink edge.

Harry sighed contentedly, the last of his worries fading away to a blur that was impossible to even think about.

“You can close your eyes,” Draco said. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

*

Draco’s chest tightened at the way Harry’s green eyes became unfocused.

“You always keep me safe, Daddy,” he said, eyes slipping shut.

Draco straightened, Harry’s trust in him making his chest swell. Damn _right_ he was going to keep his boy safe.

With the finest care, Draco shampooed and conditioned Harry’s curls. Little moans slipped from Harry’s mouth as Draco massaged. He tugged a little harder just to hear Harry’s gasp.

“Tilt your head back for me, sweetheart,” he ordered. “Good boy.”

Harry’s smile was absent and relaxed as Draco rinsed off his hair.

Then, Draco started to gently scrub Harry down, robes rolled up to his elbows. Grime from Harry’s day coated his skin, and Draco was determined to get it off. Draco was going to care for his boy, wash away his worries, if only for the night. And right now, only _Draco_ could see Harry like this.

Sometimes, Draco hated Harry’s day job. Yes, it had become better now that he was the Head Auror and not out in the field. At the same time, though, it made Harry a greater target. These scenes helped Harry, but Draco needed them too: a time when he could do everything in his power to keep Harry close.

As Draco’s hands trailed down to Harry’s cock, Harry gave a little whimper. Draco’s attention sharpened.

“Is there something you want, sweetheart?” he asked, brushing his hand over Harry’s cock once more.

“ _Mmmm_ ,” Harry twisted a little, his eyes opening half-lidded. “Daddy.”

The chasm in Draco’s chest opened just a little wider. “Yes, baby boy?” It was a damn _wonder_ that Draco’s voice was even. He started to run his fingers over Harry’s cock, which was filling under his actions. His eyes sharpened over Harry’s every expression. There was no trace of anxiety or displeasure in Harry’s eyes; the little furrow in his brow and his parted lips were from pleasure. With a quick movement, Draco thumbed Harry’s slit and stroked Harry firmly.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry moaned. “Yes, Daddy.” Little grunts of pleasure dropped from his mouth, his half-lidded eyes focused entirely on Draco. He was at Draco’s mercy, and he knew it.

“That’s right,” Draco said, voice gravelly. “You’re so responsive, baby boy.” He leaned forward, dropping a kiss on Harry’s hair. Harry whimpered, arching his back.

“Daddy, I’m—”

Draco nosed Harry’s hair, quickening his pace a tad. “You’ve been such a _good boy_ , why don’t you come for Daddy?”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, lips parting, cheeks flushed. His cock throbbed in Draco’s hand, spilling under the water.

“Good,” Draco said. “Now stay still for Daddy, and we’ll get you out of there.”

“Okay,” Harry mumbled.

Draco rinsed Harry off, and lifted him out of the bathtub. The huge white towel was large enough to wrap Harry up entirely. Harry looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes, smiling—and grouching a little—as Draco vigorously dried him off. He helped Harry into his pyjamas, slipped Harry’s glasses back on. They brushed their teeth together, and Draco led him by the hand back to their bedroom.

“What would you like now?”

Already, Harry’s eyes were blinking slowly. _No sex tonight, then_ , Draco determined. Instead, he gently nudged Harry towards the bed.

“Shall I tell you the story of the dragon and his prince?”

Harry’s eyes brightened. “Okay...but _you_ have to change too.”

Draco affectionately scrubbed Harry’s hair. “Too smart, you are. Get into bed.”

“Okay.”

Draco changed out of his robes, and into a sleeping robe. Harry had already gotten into bed, covers pulled up to his nose, green eyes sparkling.

“Now, come on, baby boy,” Draco said sternly.

Grinning, Harry allowed Draco to slip in next to him, quickly snuggling against Draco. Draco held him tight as he told the fairytale, wrapping them both up in protective magic. At certain points, Harry would glance up with a smile, utter comfort in his green eyes, and Draco would be humbled by the trust, would re-vow to destroy all of Harry’s enemies—which Draco _knew_ was rationally ridiculous, but if _anyone_ tried to interrupt them during a scene like this, when Harry was vulnerable, Draco would _not_ hesitate.

As Harry’s blinks became longer, Draco took off Harry’s glasses.

“I’m awake,” Harry grumbled, glaring a little. His voice had deepened again, shifting from the higher tone he had used during the scene.

“A-huh.”

“New bath bombs smelt nice,” Harry mumbled. “Where d’ya get them?”

“Neville.”

Harry gave a short chuckle. “Hmm.” He pushed himself up and landed a short kiss on Draco’s lips. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

Harry’s eyes turned serious. “I’ll protect you, too.”

Draco exhaled. “I know.”

Harry smirked. “I’ll make breakfast tomorrow.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Assuming you wake up in time. Honestly, I’d think you were still a teenager sometimes.”

“I was thinking waffles and ice cream,” Harry continued blithely. “A _great_ breakfast for two adult wizards.”

Draco scrubbed Harry’s hair and Harry stuck out his tongue.

“At _least_ wake me up when you do,” Harry said, looking at Draco with those bewizarding green eyes of his.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Draco said. “Fine.” He tugged Harry closer to him, pinning him down with one leg slung over. “Good _night_ , Harry,” he said sternly.

“Hmmm. Night, Draco.” Harry snuggled in, wrapping his arms around Draco.

Draco knew the exact moment Harry fell asleep: the smallest _whuffling_ sound as he settled deeper under the covers, the deepening of his breath. Draco set the alarm that he already knew Harry was going to sleep through and checked the wards. Then, he tucked his head against Harry’s and finally allowed himself to relax and sleep, too.

  
  


  
  


_FIN_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prompt 36: Draco likes power and Harry needs to feel cared for.
> 
> If you like this, you might also like [A Good Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15802446).


End file.
